adeleine stared down it, and did
not feel exactly satisfied with the result of her investigation. She
had not expected anything extraordinary--Heaven forbid!--but she had
been uncomfortably conscious of Maurice's surprise. To her last remark,
he had made no answer: he was occupied with the screw of one of his
skates.

She drew his attention to the fact that, if she remained in Leipzig for
another twelvemonth, they would finish at the same time; and thereupon
she sketched out a plan of them going somewhere together, and starting
a music-school of their own. Maurice, who thought she was jesting,
laughingly assented. But Madeleine was in earnest: "Other people have
done it--why shouldn't we? We could take a 'cellist with us, and go to
America, or Australia, or Canada--there are hundreds of places. And
there's a great deal of money in it, I'm sure. A little capital would
be needed to begin with, but not much, and I could supply that. You've
always said you dreaded going back to the English provinces to
decay--here's your chance!"

She saw the whole scheme cut and dried before her. As they, skated
after the rest, she continued to enlarge upon it, in a detailed way
that astonished Maurice. He confessed that, with a head like hers to
conduct it, such a plan stood a fair chance of success; and thus
encouraged, Madeleine undertook to make a kind of beginning at once, by
sounding some of the numerous friends she had, scattered through
America. Her idea was that they should go over together, and travel to
various places, giving concerts, and acquainting themselves, as they
did so, with the musical conditions of the towns they visited.

"And the 'cellist shall be an American--that will draw."

According to the pace at which they were skating, the others should
have remained well out of reach. But on turning a corner, they came
upon the whole party dancing a FRANCAISE--which two members
whistled--on a patch of ice that was smoother than the rest.

"Here, Guest, come along, we want you," was the cry as soon as Maurice
appeared; and, to Madeleine's deep displeasure, she was thrown on Dove,
whose skill had not sufficed. When the dancing was over, Maurice once
more found himself with Miss Martin, whom, for some distance, he pushed
before him, she standing steady on her skates, and talking to him over
her shoulder.

"That wasn't a bit pretty of you, Mr. Guest," she asserted, with her
long, slow, twanged speech. "It was fixed up ye